


The first step to being hypnotized is believing you can be

by Legs (InsanityRule)



Series: A Modicum of Humanity Makes Everything Harder [8]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 22:58:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9209021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsanityRule/pseuds/Legs
Summary: Oswald and Ed are left to fend for themselves against Strange, who has a secret weapon in his arsenal: Ed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is the missing scene directly between chapters 19 and 20 of Plant Food, and does not have much context outside of that story.

“I must admit, the two of you have shown me such a wildly different side of yourselves this past week. I actually hesitated to add the two of you to my roster. But without any tangible evidence to suggest the two of you have somehow achieved self-improvement without the help of someone like myself, well, there’s a reason I’ve decided to include you both.”

Extensive dental work be damned, Oswald grinds his teeth in frustration. Jim would be very  _ irritated  _ with Oswald if he shot this man in the face right now, and Oswald has inexplicably decided that he does not  _ like  _ it when Jim is irritated with him. In fact, he finds himself actually loathing the thought that Jim could harbor ill will towards Oswald just because he ‘accidentally’ fired off his semi-automatic a few times and obliterated this despicable worm’s face.

“It’s been fascinating, watching the two of you work  _ with  _ Detective Jim Gordon.” He has that same damn  _ look  _ on his face, the inquisitive scientist look, the one that makes Oswald’s skin crawl. He does  _ not  _ appreciate being studied like some lab rat. “What you intend to gain from that is baffling, but the experience has been quite a sight.”

“Maybe we’re playing the long game,” Oswald says, smiling at Strange. A downright lie, of course. However, he feels an obligation to explain himself to this man, even now, and he hates how his gut churns after the lie. He is  _ not  _ intimidated by this man, this, this  _ psychologist _ . “I’m sure that’s not impossible for you to imagine, the thought that we could be  _ deceiving  _ him for our own gain.”

“I think you’re prone to giving yourselves too much credit. You should remember, Oswald, that I’ve read both of your files extensively.”

“I’m sure those are a bit outdated by now.”

Having to look up at Strange is, by far, his least favorite part of this encounter. It’s degrading, sitting here on the floor, Ed seething in pain beside him. He’d get up, but he’s a bit concerned the small patch of wetness on his leg isn’t  _ actually  _ because of Ed’s tears or mild head wound and is, in fact, proof he’s torn his stitches a  _ third  _ time, and it would be terribly inconvenient if he were to bleed out moments after being reunited with Ed, so he sits, and seethes, and listens.

For now.

“Upon arrival at my new facility your files will be updated to reflect your current conditions, and I will personally begin your personalized conditioning program. Edward here has already undergone a few sessions, and shown excellent progress.”

Oswald looks to Ed upon hearing this, and find himself disliking the uneasy look on his face, and the way his hair has gotten mussed and bloody, really just everything about his current state of being. Ed’s hair should be gelled, or at least combed. Obviously, there should be no blood in sight unless it isn’t his, and that leg of his needs some serious medical attention.

No, Oswald does not like this one bit. He puts a hand on Ed’s shoulder, and another on his semi-automatic, and forces himself upright, intending to either intimidate Strange or, should it come to physical blows, blow out his kneecaps with a few bullets in the hope it somehow summons Zsasz over to their location. It wouldn’t be the first time the sound of gunfire had drawn him to Oswald’s aid like a bullet-happy Beetlejuice.

“Oswald-”

“Not  _ now  _ Ed,” he flashes one of his patented fake press smiles to Ed. “I’m having a nice little  _ chat  _ with our friend Strange.”

“There are details you’re not yet aware of-”

“ _ Ed _ , please-”

“I never was, am always to be. No one ever saw me, no one ever will,” Strange says.

Oswald laughs once, amused and somewhat perplexed. “Tired of your ‘too smart for my own good’ motif so you’re trying out others? If you hold still I can give you a head start on mine. I’ll even promise to try and missing any major blood vess-” he hears a grunt and some shuffling from Ed. “What are you doing stay on the ground!” He drops the semi-automatic and tries to help stabilize Ed.

“Tomorrow,” Ed rasps. Oswald has  _ no  _ idea why Ed’s insisting on walking today  _ on a broken leg  _ but no, that’s not quite right. It’s not his leg, it’s the answer to the damn riddle; he remembers a certain night (many nights) when Ed  _ insists  _ on answering Oswald in a riddle instead of giving a damn straight answer so Oswald can make dinner reservations. Why Ed insists on complicating matters when Oswald just wants to treat the two of them to a nice meal, one he wants to enjoy with his  _ husband _ , is beyond him, but also, he has no idea why Ed’s insisting on answering Strange now.

“Are you done humoring our self-proclaimed captor?” he asks. Ed only stares, pupils fattening, and not in a way that Oswald likes. “Ed? Ed you will  _ answer  _ me Goddamn it.”

“Minds like his, already prone to compulsion, are much easier to condition,” Strange explains. Oswald turns from Ed to Strange and back again. “See that he’s properly neutralized, and an escort will bring the two of you to the new facility.”

Ed takes a halting, labored step forward, dragging his injured leg as he stalks towards Oswald. He backs up, shoulders hitting the wall, hands moving up to help Ed even as he closes in menacingly. “Ed, come on now, stop this foolishness already and snap out of it.”

“I’ll leave you to it.” Strange shuts the door as he leaves.

“Ed you listen to me. Ed!” Oswald searches his face for any recognition, a glimmer of amusement,  _ something  _ reassuring to show him Ed is still in control. He finds nothing. “Ed please,” he begs (he  _ never  _ begs unless it’s under wildly different circumstances, see reasons Oswald likes to see Ed’s pupils blown wide), “Ed you- you’re going to listen to me right this second. Ed!”

“Oswald,” Ed whispers, a hand moves up Oswald’s chest and settles loosely around his neck. Oswald’s heart rate skyrockets.

“That's not exactly comforting,” he mutters. “Ed, you know me.” Ed leans in, hand tightening a fraction, “and you know I’m very much opposed to this so I suggest you come to your senses right now!”

Ed leans in so he’s near Oswald’s ear, stray locks of hair tickling Oswald’s temple. Ed’s voice is raspy and labored, but quiet, then he whispers, “I’m not susceptible to hypnotic suggestion.”

Oswald blinks. The hand on his neck begins moving in a slow, steady pace, the motion attempting to soothe his racing pulse. He puts his hands on Ed’s shoulders and makes him straighten, studying the fond expression he finds.

He shoves him lightly, not enough to actually push him away even a little, but enough to get his point across. “You’re an  _ ass _ . Are you kidding me Ed?”

“You have my sincerest apologies, Oswald, I’m so sorry. He wouldn’t have left had I not been convincing.” Ed touches Oswald’s cheek; Oswald allows this, goes so far as letting himself lean into the touch, and makes no complaints while Ed continues to dote over him. He’ll admit to himself that he’s feeling a tad shaken from Strange’s little stunt, and the thought that he’s managed to turn Ed into his puppet in a few hours’ time. But that tremor in his leg is  _ not  _ from fear, it’s from the abrupt change in his adrenaline.

“I am not happy about being tricked,” he informs Ed. Still, Oswald can’t say he’s mad, and to show this he pulls Ed in for a kiss. When he lets him go, he says, “your pupils are still rather large.”

“I happen to know I am part of the percent of the population whose pupils dilate due to pain.” He says this proudly, ignoring his clammy, sweaty self and the obvious green tint to his skin.

“So you've hurt yourself more on purpose, just because you over commit.” Oswald shakes his head. “You’re a complete idiot.” He drags Ed down into a hug and, maybe, lets out a shaky breath against his shoulder. Ed holds him back, tight, and sighs against his neck. It’s been a long day. “I love you though, so I must be one too.”

“I love you,” Ed says, strained, “but this isn’t terribly comfortable right now.”

“Oh, your leg,” Oswald mumbles and releases Ed. “Is it bad?”

Ed laughs, breathy and edged with discomfort, and shakily he informs Oswald, “I am in an incredible amount of pain. If you’re able to help me sit I’d be very grateful.”

“Of course.” Oswald finds himself  _ smiling  _ at this idiot, this man he loves so dearly, and he supposes it’s because he’s relieved he’s alright. Being so relieved, he’s only  _ mildly  _ annoyed by the muscle twinge he gets from helping Ed lower himself to the floor with his back against a wall. With Ed properly seated Oswald takes a moment to retrieve his weapon from the floor and eases himself down beside Ed. He drops his head against Ed’s shoulder. “Perhaps  _ this  _ is the sign we should retire from active involvement in your cases. You’re a desk jockey from now on.”

Ed’s head thunks against his. “I’m not opposed.”

Oswald glances at Ed’s hand as it curls around his, then at his broken leg, resting oddly next to Oswald’s mess of a left leg.

“We match,” he says quietly. Ed hums in agreement. “When we get home I’ll call my physician. And if necessary we can purchase a cane for you.” He rests the semi-automatic across his lap and angles it towards the door. “And in the meantime I’ll defend you.”

“My hero.” Ed teases. “I’d consider kissing you again if I wasn’t feeling quite so nauseated.”

Lovely. Still, Oswald settles a bit more to enjoy the relative peace and quiet of the room, but he forces himself to remain vigilant, and for good reason. A moment or so later the door creaks slightly and he’s fully alert, spitting out a few rounds to scare off the supposed escort.

“Try to come in here again and I’ll turn you into swiss cheese!” he shouts. Ed snickers. “What.”

“Oswald, that was rather cheesy of you to say.”

Oswald is not impressed. “You’re walking home. I don’t care if your leg is broken. I can’t believe you sometimes.” He hears shuffling outside the door. “Show yourself!”

“Just me boss.” Zsasz opens the door a crack, grinning at them both. “Hey Ed. Good seeing you again,” he says, as if this is what, some crazy chance meeting in a public park?

Oswald pinches the bridge of his nose. He really can’t handle Zsasz sometimes,  _ especially _ when he’s in one of his better moods. “Can you take this seriously for just a minute please? Go back out there and clear a path out, then get your grateful ass back here to help Ed, because if you’re quick about it we might be able to help you evade Arkham.”

Zsasz’s expression becomes serious and he nods. “I’m on it.”

“Shut the door on your way out,” Oswald says, and he closes his eyes for a moment to pretend he’s somewhere else.

“You can’t keep a promise like that.”

“I can do what I want Ed.” He opens his eyes and looks Ed in the eye, forcing his expression to harden, daring him to deny Oswald’s claim. “Jim will be focused on Bruce, and as much as I’d like to claim otherwise I cannot carry you by myself. We’ll need Zsasz’s help.”

Ed hums to himself, thinking. “I suppose your logic is sound.”

“I have my moments.” He leans against Ed as much as his leg will allow and closes his eyes, holding his hand tightly when Ed laces their fingers together, his clammy, cold hands cooling Oswald’s cheek when he brings their hands up to his face. “As you’re probably aware, I have many questions.”  _ Did he torture you too _ ? Is the most prominent in his mind right now for a few obvious reasons. “But I think I’d rather just savor the quiet if you’re not opposed.”

Ed rests his head against Oswald’s again, and although Ed’s obviously sweating from the pain, Oswald will forgive it just this once. He nods once, kisses Oswald’s forehead once, and doesn’t say a word.


End file.
